The Worst Year
by Colin Creevey
Summary: Ther're some things you can’t stop. Some things that just happen out of all control. If I had just watched from the sidelines, instead of getting directly involved, things might have turned out different. But how could I? He was my brother." Mark's POV
1. Does Everyone Know What Time It Is

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 1: Does Everyone Know What Time It Is**

It was the summer of 1995. I was ten years old. Wow, when I look back, I really was very young. Too young to have to face what I was forced to face. I said it many times. I was forced to grow up too fast. I was one of the few unlucky children to have his innocence of childhood snatched from him, thrown away, and burned till the ashes disappeared with the wind.

Mom kept saying there're children like that all over the world, and it's not as rare as I thought, but how many faced what I did? Many? Well then let's try again. How many kids swore to do one task, a simple enough task, only to find it was much more than they bargained for? Many? Well, my story is different. It's unique in a way. Not many kids, at least here in America, got what I got. I accepted a long time ago there may be kids like me all over the world, but let's look at a more confined picture. How many like me are there in the U.S. of A.?

A normal day would pass regularly. Or rather, as regular and normal as a day could possibly be in the Taylor household. Me and Brad would get into a fight, Randy would back him up, I'd run and tell mom, and then she'd tell dad, dad would plot with me about how to get them back, we _would _get them back, and then a couple hours later they'd pick on me for telling mom in the first place, and we'd be where he started at the beginning. It was quite a vicious cycle really.

This day was no different; or at least, where fights were concerned. Today, dad agreed to take us both on Tool Time under a condition we didn't fight each other. Brad and I argued, but it was minor, and we agreed not to tell dad or even Randy for that matter. At least there was on thing we agreed on. I wondered how Tool Time would go for me if I was surrounded by idiots such as my two brothers, and even my dad. I mean, as nice as he can be when punishing Brad and Randy for their stupidity, he could be a real klutz.

Today, he was making a fence. I always wondered how he kept coming up with different things to make involving only tools. It's been going for years, and he still gets ideas for every day. Didn't all these years add up to over a thousand days? I voiced my mystification to Al, and he told me Tim already did a fencing episode, and he beat him. I think Al meant the sword-fighting kind of fencing. Something I've always wanted to try, but mom was too worried, being the overprotective mother she was. She actually thought the teacher would let me 'get sliced into pieces.'

Heidi did the daily greeting… I think we know what time it is now. It's been that time for over five years! I never told dad, but I always thought they should change the greeting, and introduction, and add a theme song or something. Feature dad's barking sound. That would be amusing.

My brothers and I were sitting in the audience, front row. I always begged, and here I was. I was finally on tool time. I found it amazing I was finally on television. Dad was saying something about hard core power tools, something about Binford, went on about mom, and then he called us down. Randy nudged me to knock me out of my daydream, and I followed them down.

"Today, my future tool kids will be showing us how to install a smoke machine," dad was saying to the crowd. I was so nervous. All eyes were on me and my brothers. How did dad get through this _every day?_ "Brad, can you tell us what a smoke machine is used for?"

"For pulling pranks and scaring the adults away," Brad answered, grinning. I almost laughed at that. Who'd think that was really why smoke machines were invented. They were invented for- wait- dad said that was the correct answer! I could not believe it!

Dad showed Brad where to put the plug in, and what knobs and buttons to push. Then, dad actually called me over. It seemed they needed three men for this. But then, why was Randy part of this. I was beginning to think he'd be left out when dad called him over to help us. Dad left us to do out work. This must've been a Binford smoke machine, differently made, because I saw different ones, even those working without electricity.

I held on knob up on the left hand side, and Randy was beside me, hand on a button by the knob. Brad kicked it to life on the other side, and Randy pushed the button. I let go of the knob, and let it switch down. A bunch of silvery smoke burst out of it, covering the area. I couldn't see anything. Al was yelling. Tim was yelling to the blinded audience about different colors, and Brad kicked it again. The silver turned black to gray to white to pink to red. I was awed at it.

Eventually, Randy turned it off. I heard a sharp intake of breath beside me, but thought nothing of it. Was this actually healthy? I mean, if smoking isn't healthy for people, how'd this smoke machine even make it to the market? I clapped Randy's hand, and Brad clapped mine. Tim was making a final announcement before declaring commercial time.

My brothers and I went backstage. Heidi gave us an inhalant each, usually used for people who had asthma. I felt cleared up in no time. I supposed Brad did, and Randy, but it was at that point that Randy gave a violent cough, and fell backwards. He stepped back, and fell. It took a while for me to register what had just happened to my brother. I heard about it, but never actually seen it till then. Thank God it was commercial time.

_A/N: I usually dedicate the first chapter to an introduction or a prologue. This time, there isn't much to say, but this: Remember the title, The Worst Year. What makes it worst? Also, as a Home Improvement story, and with the characters, though this is a suspenseful story, it will still have the small element of humor in it. Very, very little. _


	2. Seizure

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 2: Seizure**

I never, ever in my young years spared a thought for how everything will end. I thought that it would be like every other family. Brad would leave off to college, Randy next, and then I would, and all of us would separate, and see each other only during the holidays, if we were lucky. I never thought we'd be the unlucky ones; a family with health problems, behavior problems, and bully problems where I was concerned.

We rushed Randy to the hospital. Wow. What a day that was. I knew we'd end up in the hospital, but I thought dad would be the one in trouble. I never, not once, thought I'd see Randy in the hospital. Not yet. He was fine earlier that morning. All of a sudden, he fell unconscious.

Now, to tell the truth, I never knew what a stroke was up till that day. I guess it was never important. Now I know what it is. Every time I hear that word, I get a feeling of foreboding, like someone is about to die. Now I know. A stroke is the very condition that can end a life swiftly. If only it did not exist, then maybe… maybe things would be different.

Randy was laying in a bed. Dr. Koffman, his personal doctor, was checking him up. He was in intensive care. Still unconscious, and mom was crying herself dead. She was worried sick. She kept saying something about Randy probably going into a coma. It was then when I asked, "What's a coma?"

Mom didn't answer. I don't think she could. But dad answered me, "A coma is another state of unconsciousness. But, you don't respond to light or touch or"-

Dad stopped, looking at my mom. She burst into more tears. I regretted almost instantly even asking that question. Maybe I should've saved it for a doctor. They seemed pretty nice. Ah well, what was done was done.

I didn't visit Randy too much in the room. I left that for mom and dad to do. You can't imagine how much I regret that now. I wish so much I was there. It's not that something happened that day, it's not that he had died or anything, but I really should've been there every moment of his times in a coma. It would've at least shown I cared. But none of us really cared for the other.

Brad and Randy seemed close, and they even picked on me together. But I knew, and still know now that they had their share of fights. They were growing apart, obviously. Sometimes, I found myself asking Brad for advice, and he'd actually give it to me. He wouldn't laugh like he used to when I was seven. At the age of ten, he'd actually listen. He even helped me get over my sight problem, kind of. The real helper was Wilson, but I doubt even Wilson could do anything about Randy.

The next day, Wilson came over to see him. Al came to let dad know that Tool Time was being suspended. That was also the day I visited Randy in the room, and he was actually awake! He must've woken up, but at least he was recovering. I felt so good. I sat beside his bed all day. I think he felt weird, uncomfortable maybe. I did too. We weren't always close. But I was there.

What made it more awkward was that mom and dad left the room to get a lunch, and Brad had to use the bathroom. It was just me and him there. "Why aren't you eating?" Randy asked.

He must've felt weird, but did he really want to get rid of me. Did he need time alone? I voiced that question to him, and he didn't answer. He shrugged, that was all. Just shrugged, and hoisted the pillow up, so he could sit.

We were sitting for what seemed like half an hour. What was taking mom and dad so long? This was really getting weird. We hardly talked. I felt so guilty that I was quiet. I should've said something.

At a loss for words, I asked, "So, how do you feel?"

At that, my brother started shaking a little. I thought he was shivering, so I handed him a spare blanket from couch. I guess he wasn't cold. After all, the cooler wasn't on, and the room temperature seemed fine.

Still, he kept shaking, and it was getting worse. "Erm… Randy?" I looked at him confusedly. I had no clue what was going on. At least, until he started shaking like crazy, like he was having his own earthquake. "Randy?!" I yelled.

He didn't, no, he couldn't answer. He just… I mean… He kept shaking. White foam was appearing on his mouth, and at that point, the door opened. I looked in fear at mom and dad. I thought they thought I made it happen.

"He's just shaking, I couldn't do anything!" I yelled fearfully.

The doctors didn't answer. Nor did mom and dad. The doctors rushed over, and started working on him like crazy. Like they were trying to fix a faulty machine that dad blew up. Mom had her hands on my shoulders as they worked on my older brother. Brad appeared later. He was a little confused at what happened.

Randy was unconscious again. I wondered when he would wake up.

_A/N: Usually, I do not write in first person, as some of you may know. It's a lot more descriptive, and I'm better tuned in with dialogue. Nonetheless, I have since improved my descriptive abilities, and I found myself writing in Mark's POV by almost accident. But I realize I can do much more with the story in this way. So here goes. _


	3. Heart Attack

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 3: Heart Attack**

Randy was out of it for what seemed like three hours, but I have a feeling it was a lot less. I didn't have my watch with me. In the hassle before the Tool Time show, Brad and Randy hid my watch for a joke. But I couldn't regret it then. Randy, his life, seemed to be in a lot of danger. Would he ever wake up, I wondered. Sometimes, I voiced my wonder aloud without realizing mom and dad was in the room with me.

"I'm sure he'll be- fine," mom said hesitantly. I don't think she had a lot of confidence herself. I wished she just didn't answer.

I looked at dad, hoping he'd have more confidence, or least show it. I didn't notice if he had the confidence I was hoping to see or not. Because at that point, I just remembered, surely dad survived worse before. I mean, all those accidents and fires had to count for something to compete with Randy's problem. But…

But… I refused to even remember the problems Randy had since he was a baby. Chronic, asthma, terrible coughs, bad colds, horrible fevers, and even pneumonia when he was ten. If one put all that together, I don't think even all of dad's accidents in his _lifetime _could compete.

After an hour, something miraculous happened, but some of me right now wish it never happened, only because I care. He woke up. His eyes opened, and I was the first to notice. I was also the first his eyes rested on. I opened my mouth in surprise, and called out, "Mom, dad, Brad, he's awake!"

Immediately, without questions, mom and dad rushed over, with Brad at their heels. Mom pushed the buzzer, (somehow, she managed to keep dad off of it) for the doctors to come in.

Within five minutes, they did, and demanded we all cleared out for a while. I was the last to leave. I just wanted to know if he'd by fine. I followed Brad out only after I nodded a goodbye to Randy.

In the waiting room, things were quiet. Mom and dad were deep in a whispering conversation I had little desire to be a part of. I never cared much for their conversations. To me, it was always gibberish and jabber. Like another language, I could hardly understand what they were talking about. Only the words 'Randy' and 'health' caught my ears.

I sat back, barely speaking a word to Brad. I must've been the quietest of them all. Even Brad talked to mom and dad a little. I completely lacked any speech.

Within another two hours or boredom and rest, the doctors walked in. They let us know Randy could be visited, and we immediately got up to see him again. But, I didn't get it. Was he stable?

My question was answered thirty minutes later when we were in the hospital room. Randy was awake, eating what looked like a ham sandwich. Wow, he seemed normal. Like he just woke up from a short nap, and was having a short snack to go with his refreshment. He waved them all. I waved back, but put my hand down before everyone else. I found my greeting was a little too half-hearted. I didn't know why. I was worried sick.

"Hey guys," Randy said, taking a bite. "I'm ok. They asked me a couple questions, and let me have a sandwich."

"What sort of questions did they ask?"

"If anything was bothering me," Randy answered simply.

"Is anything bothering you?" Brad asked.

"Not- exactly," Randy replied.

Mom wasn't convinced. Nor, apparently, was dad. "Honey, if something is bothering, we need to know. So, we can make sure nothing like this will happen again."

"I guess it was just the hype and smoke of Tool Time," Randy shrugged. "Now I know the teacher's aren't kidding when they say smoking's bad for you. Hah." He laughed a bit, but stopped. His hand on the side twitched, as if wanting to clutch somewhere, but he caught himself in the nick of time. Mom and dad didn't notice.

We stayed there for an hour until mom and dad announced they would be retiring in the hospital rental ward for long-term guests. I don't think many hospitals have one of those. Interesting.

I turned to follow then, but a throat-clearing from Randy made me stop. Mom and dad were out, and Brad wads first to leave. "Mark, never do that again."

"What're you"-

"That was so tense," Randy sighed. He looked tired again. It made my stomach churn. "I thought you were still mad at me for torturing you at home before the- well- the episode."

"I- kind of forgot about it," I said back calmly and hesitantly. If I was the cause of the last one, even my accidents beyond my control, I did not want to be responsible for another.

"I'm sorry," Randy mumbled.

I didn't know what to say, so I was silent for a time. I nodded slowly, but at my nod, things only got worse. Again, I wish, even now, he never woke up from the seizure he had.

What happened next was way too fast to take in. He clutched his heart, yelling and screaming in what looked like agony. I gulped down a bit of fear as doctors rushed in once again.

Tears were forming in his eyes. Was he crying in physical pain? Usually, Randy wasn't like that. He didn't cry unless he was really dealt a hard and tough emotional blow.

"What's happening?!" I yelled in fear.

One doctor didn't answer me. She just rushed at me without warning, and demanded me out. "Out- out," she demanded, practically pushing me out with her long finger.

Wow, remind me never to ask her a question again. Now what was happening? What did I do now? I accepted his apology! I was fine. I was actually happy he apologized. That was why I took ages to answer. Why the sudden attack?

_A/N: This one of my fewer attempts at this kind of story. Hope you enjoy. The ball of the plot is rolling quite nicely now. _


	4. The Long Wait

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 4: The Long Wait**

_A/N: This chapter will for the first time go off Mark's POV to look at your point of view. What's going to happen will require it to be written from your point this time. From a reader's point. So, enjoy!_

I swore I had nothing to do with it. Brad seemed to believe me, but he still didn't speak to me. I guessed he wasn't in the mood. Mom and dad were all for me. They knew I didn't do anything. It was just coincidence. I mean, I was only ten, I still am right now. What can a ten year-old do to a thirteen year-old to cause a heart attack?

Yeah, I knew what it was called then. I asked mom and dad what it was. But thanks to that, we didn't get any sleep at all. We were waiting all night. A nurse came in to tell us that Randy was in critical condition. Well, for me, he was always in critical condition. How long was this going to last? Couldn't things just go back to normal? To the way they used to be?

_**Your POV:**_

Mark, Brad, Tim and Jill were sitting quietly in the waiting room. There was a lack of conversation in the tense air as they closed their eyes, not in sleep, but in something deeper.

Beside Mark, Tim has his eyes tightly closed, looking as he usually does when asking for a win-game for the Lions.*

_Tim's prayer: _

_Dear God, _

_Please help my boy. I had no idea he was in no condition to inhale any of that. I thought it was safe. The tool time crew assured me, and the one thing I swore I wouldn't fiddle with. I kept it, didn't I? Now, I ask that you help my son. He is too young to meet you just yet. _

_I don't practice my religion too often. I mean, I visit church every Sunday to worship you, but I'm always listening to a football game. But hey, you created man, right? _

_I ask you, from the bottom of my heart, on behalf of my whole family, please don't take Randy away. _

*Beside Tim, Jill is asking in her own way*

_Jill's prayer:_

_Dear God, _

_If I did anything wrong, I am dreadfully sorry. But I beg you, take anything away, just not my Randy. He always had health problems? Does this mean his life was always doomed to be short? _

_We always got through them. Chronic was one thing, but that's common among babies. It was asthma that scared us, and you answered my prayers that time. He was over it within a year. Pneumonia scared us dead, and even then, my prayers were answered. He was fine. He got over that soon. _

_But, I guess, I always feared, that his terrible colds, and his fevers were bad enough to say his health was probably weak to begin with. I always feared, deep down, he would have a short life. But, I always prayed for him the most of all, just to ask you to save him, and keep him strong and healthy. He was always strong. You made him that way. _

_Please, help him…_

*Upstairs, a doctor is banging his head on the table, over his paperwork, over a kid who seems to be lost and wants it reversed*

_A doctor's prayer:_

_Dear God,_

_Why is it always me? Always! Do you have something against me? Every patient I get, I lose… erm- that kid with asthma doesn't count. It's not deadly. But every problem that comes in on me, I have to face, I have to lose, and I have to take the fall. _

_One of these days, I might as well be fired, and I've only been on the job for three years. Please, let me save this kid. Too much is at stake now. My job, my self-esteem and- what am I saying- I'm being selfish…_

_Mighty Lord, he's too young. I guess his family has two other boys to care for, but I know it's hard on a family to lose one even out of fifty. I saw his brothers, and his parents. Isn't that the Tool man? I'm a big fan of his, and I'm asking you on his behalf, please do not kill his son. _


	5. The Vow

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 5: The Vow**

_A/N: This chapter will return to Mark's POV. Kind of pointless the last chapter was, but I said it before and I'll say it again; it's best I keep that chapter in. Kind of a relief, before…_

Well, the wait was over. I could tell mom and dad were praying the whole time. I realized that about half way through the night. That was why I didn't open any conversation. Besides, who would find it in their mind to reply in the first place? I fell off to sleep half way through the night, around three. I don't think that helped a bit. My eyes were so tired and aching with sleepiness in the half night I was awake. The doctors came in early in the morning. I think it was around seven. I felt like I haven't slept a wink.

I felt kind of alone, and it did not occur to me back then that they might've felt just as lonely. All of us were thinking the same question. Would Randy be ok? But the doctors were there, taking their time to stare at all of us. What, was this a staring contest? The way they looked. Was I missing something? For one wild and sleepy minute, I thought that Randy was declared ok, and the doctors wanted to celebrate with a staring contest. But then my sane side took over, and I came to my senses.

I thought, no, I knew, he was almost definitely dead. A tall and skinny doctor with thick framed glasses started speaking. "We did a medical examination. He suffered a major heart attack, and is in constant danger of death."

Mom gulped with what looked like a little effort. I nodded, looking down. Did this mean he wasn't dead… yet?

The doctor continued, "Tomorrow, we can allow him out and about, but I strongly recommend you keep him under constant watch. Do not let him out of your sight. A strong surge of any negative emotion can retrigger the heart attack, and we do not know if we will be able to save him next time. Any questions?"

Dad shook his head, and Brad shrugged. As usual though, and so to no surprise, mom raised her hand as if she was in class. "I have a question. Will he be like this for the rest of his life? I mean, isn't there a critical period?"

"Keep him ok and happy for a month," the doctor suggested. "Then, take him here for a checkup. I believe the critical period ends by then."

"Randy doesn't like being watched so closely," mom pointed out worriedly. "He'd be miserable, and that would trigger a negative emotion."

"Then I suggest you have one of his brothers look after him, as a friend, you know. Someone to give him positive emotion. Can that happen?"

Then, I do not know why. Even now, months later, I cannot figure out for the life of me, why I even spoke that time. I wish I didn't. It changed my entire life. Sure, he'd have died if I hadn't spoke, but…

Well, I spoke anyway. I said, "I'll do that. I'll look out for him. Dad has Tool Time, mom has work, and Brad has his paper rounds. I'll look after him if- I mean… if he doesn't mind."

The doctor nodded, eyeing me for a bit. What, another staring contest. Well, two could play at that game. I eyed him back. The doctor blinked, nodded, and said, "Come with me."

Before following, my mind went wild with fun. Victory, I was thinking. I won the contest. I always win. Undefeated champion Mark Taylor beats an educated doctor with a Ph. D in a staring contest. The doctor could cure patients, he could pass the hardest science exams, but he can't win a simple staring contest. My brain was practically laughing, and grinning, and I followed.

Mom and dad must've been dumbfounded. I mean, what the hell was I smiling about? Like this was the best thing in the world. Well, I was just under an undeniable impression that Randy would be fine. He survived. As long as he was kept happy. It was summer. School was off. Even better, it was only July. He had time to regain his life and regain his control, and with my help, he would. We'd never have another problem again! I was so happy, and I was celebrating in my own way. In the way I thought was happening just mere minutes ago.

Besides, I won the contest, didn't I? Heh. I didn't notice that I just walked in the room, and I was still smiling. Randy seemed surprised to see me, and a little nervous. But I guess that accidental smile of mine eased it up. I wonder what would've happened had I been frowning; or even had a normal look on my face.

"Your brother will look after you for the critical month," the doctor told Randy.

Randy kept his eyes on me. I wondered why. He must've already told Randy the conditions, judging on how Randy nodded in an understanding, but he still didn't take his eyes off of me. "Alright."

That was the contract, and something I wish I could change. I didn't ask for this- well… ok, I did ask for it. And I regret it. I regret it so much I agreed to help him.

All I could think was _'How hard could this possibly be?'_


	6. I Am Your Slave

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 6: I Am Your Slave**

Boy was I mistaken. 'How hard could this possibly be?' What kind of… alright, wait a sec. Is it ok if I swear? I know I'm only ten but- ok, thank you. What kind of dumb ass question was that? Did I even think back then of how hard something like this could be, in one way or another? Let's take a look:

Randy and I have been mortal enemies since childhood. I know I'm still a child now, but I mean young childhood. I was always a bit of an idiot at my younger ages, like seven or eight. I was, as my mom once put it, a sap. I guess I was a sap back then too. The times I spent with him, I mean, some parts really left me hopeful but other parts…

I just meant to improve our relationship. A question I ask myself, even to this day is, did it work? Did our relationship improve?

Randy still kept his eyes on me. Eventually, he moved his sight back to the doctor. The skinny doctor grinned a nerdy grin. By nerdy, I mean his front teeth were the only ones showing when he smiled. I laugh at what Brad would've said if he knew who was working with his brother. And they say to make fun of nerds…

Oh well, I digress, as usual. The doctor left us, so it was once again me and Randy alone in the room. When he left, I was overcome with a wave of nervousness and unease. The last two times I was alone with Randy, it caused him a near-death experience. Here I was practically asking for another. Well, if he had another heart attack, seizure, or maybe something different- a… stroke or brain hemorrhage, I would definitely be blamed. But that time, the third time, I had a backup plan.

If Randy had another problem, I'd open the window. It was pretty high up. I'd jump down. I mean, dive down. If, for some miracle, I survived that, I even had a Plan C in mind. I'd crawl over to the not-so-far-away road, lay there, and prepare to meet my maker.

But I guess luck, or maybe in a way misfortune, was with me that day. Nothing happened. God, here I am wishing he died. Ok, I need to explain again. I loved him, and didn't want him dead. I wanted him alive. On the contrary, I wish I was dead. It would've saved me a lot of trouble. Maybe what I really wish was that Randy would have another problem, survive it, but I'd have committed suicide already.

I hate life. I think… I dunno. Anyway, I keep digressing. So the doctor left us alone. Randy once again started talking. He talked a little normally now. "So, the younger brother is looking after the older brother, huh?"

All I did was nod. He kept going, "Don't worry. You won't cause anything else, I swear. You just made me nervous those times. It's my fault. If I wasn't so mean to you before. Mark, I'm sorry."

Then I faced him. This time, I didn't, I couldn't, hesitate. I nodded immediately, and said, "Thank you. That means a lot."

"Those words alone meant a lot," Randy said, a little more to himself, but I could hear them. "Saved me some sleep tonight."

I laughed nervously, and then shook my head. What was I doing? "Randy, I'm gonna help you, at least until you get better. So I guess- I'm your slave for the next month."

I was happy to see that Randy smiled, "Alright! I got myself a slave. And it's my little brother. Really, you don't have to get me a birthday present next year. This is enough. Me controlling you for a month?"

Wow! Well, that made me feel a twinge of regret. But I pushed it away. I knew, and still know now, he was just kidding. He didn't even order me around excessively. He treated me like I was really his little brother. Like I was the one being comforted. It made me feel better about it all, and I loved him, and still do, love him for it.

_A/N: Mark is still ten when he is telling this story. He is not an adult. He is a ten year-old boy, and therefore too young to start swearing. So, he asked if it was ok. I used that line to highlight his youth. _


	7. From the Heart

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 7: From the Heart**

Randy really was controlling me. For a whole month. It was kind of funny the first week. As I said, Randy didn't take full and complete advantage of it the way he usually would. But I guess the possibility of me quitting, and him being left nervous again, causing a negative emotion which would trigger in turn a chain reaction ultimately resulting in his painful demise, stopped him.

The first week, I had one goal. That was to give him something that would make him feel better about it all. I felt more at ease he wouldn't take advantage of that kindness, because of what I just talked about. The problem was, what would I give him? It was then when I realized how little I really knew my brother.

What would I get him? What did he like? What did a regular thirteen year-old like to do during his free time. What did _Randy _like to do during hi free time? The only way I could get the answer was ask someone closer to him. Unfortunately, that wasn't mom or dad. Since he was thirteen, mom and dad weren't as close as they used to be with Randy. Randy seemed to be more ingoing towards the family. But maybe there was one person here who knew him.

I paid a visit, for the first time, to Brad's room. Wow. I never thought I'd have to venture to his room for anything. But this didn't count. It was for Randy. I knocked on the door first, just to show a little bit of peaceful respect.

Since a week before the incident, Brad started going feline on us, and making his territorial claims. In other words, he threatened to beat up anybody who stepped into his room without permission. This made me lay my claims as well. Since I'm sharing a room with Randy, it wasn't much, but my bed, and the area of a half foot radius around it I claimed. I also claimed the desk. Randy got mad, and took his own bed, and half the desk away from me. That was classic case of annexation right there. He went further, and took the whole bookcase, and taunted me.

If you're surprised I know these terms, don't be. After dad worked out an agreement between me and Randy so we could get along, and share all the room equally as one, mom used them all on us during the territorial warfare we waged, and I asked Randy what they all meant. 'Feline' is a word for the cat family, and 'annex' is a word meaning to capture.

My English teacher would be proud. He never much liked my vocabulary words. Heh. Anyway, so I knocked on the door. Brad called from inside, "Who is it?"

I answered with an almost small voice, "Me, Mark."

There was silence for a bit. I think he was considering, because it was only a week since we started this whole war game. I don't think he really thought my mission here a peaceful one. But why not? Randy was in bad shape, and why else would I come up? Slowly, he answered, "What do you want?"

"I wanna talk to you for a bit," I called back. I waited by the door. Would he let me in? Well, if he didn't, I guess there was always Wilson. As I was contemplating how I would get Wilson's attention assuming he was in the house, I received an answer, "Fine, come in."

I moved my hand to the doorknob, but it was already being turned from the other side. It opened, and Brad stood there. I guessed he still didn't trust me to open the door myself. Not that I blame him.

Last time I touched his doorknob, it wouldn't turn, because I put superglue all over it, and on the door. I mean the Binford Superglue dad advertised sometimes. I don't think he trusted me anymore.

"Brad, I wanna get Randy something, just as brothers," I said, getting straight to the point, so Brad won't get annoyed at me beating around the bush like I preferred to do when asking a difficult question.

"Ok, so?" he said, apparently confused at why I needed him.

"So, you know him better," I said. "What should I get him?"

Brad just shrugged, "You're the one he lives with now. I hardly know him."

"Well, what did he like when he was with you?" I asked simply, and I must say quite smartly too.

"Football," Brad said, smirking.

"But football isn't an option," I protested.

That made Brad mad, "Well, what do you want me to do? Make something up? Or are you guys not getting along so well?"

I didn't want a problem, especially with Randy in his condition, so I shrugged, voiced my concern, and walked away, leaving Brad standing at his own door, probably a little guiltily.

As I walked, I started contemplating the conversation with Wilson. He'd probably quote some philosopher, and ask me to think carefully what Randy likes. What he had an interest in. He took half the desk during our war games, and he also took the bookcase. The bookcase- book- ah- _thanks Wilson, _I thought, changing course back to mine and Randy's room. I'd get him a book.

_A/N: Now the story takes a different turn. Mark is taking care of Randy, and making sure nothing bothers him throughout the time they'll spend. _


	8. An Idea and a Plan

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 8: An Idea and a Plan**

It wasn't by chance that I figured out what Randy might have liked. I really did play smart there. I felt a little proud for myself. I managed to have my critical thinking kick in, and ultimately figure out on my own, and through Wilson's indirect influence, that Randy would like a book. The new question was, what book? A book about what? Fiction? Adventure? Romance?

Ok, I knew Randy thought romance a little dry, which was why he absolutely hated Cinderella. He wasn't a fan of adventure as much as I was. He saw it to be so weird and stupid. I then started thinking about getting him an educational book. Something on the habitats of endangered species or something. That would work.

As the week neared it end, I left with mom, entrusting the care-for Randy-job to Brad. Of course, I made sure to swear on my own life that I'd never do it again. But, I needed to surprise him. If Randy could survive the couple hours I was gone, it would all be worthwhile. Wouldn't it?

As I was in the car with mom, an idea came to my head, but I was uncertain. It made me worried, and pretty sick just thinking about it. But, it was an idea.

"Hey, mom?" I asked timidly.

Mom looked over to me questioningly, and, unlike what I did with Brad, started beating around the bush before getting to the point, "You know how Randy's at home all day…"

Mom nodded, looking at me curiously. How she managed to look at me, and keep her eyes on the road still freaks me out. But she nodded, and I went on, "Well, I thought maybe keeping him cooped up at home would trigger a negative emotion. Something we don't want."

I couldn't believe my luck. I was actually making a good argument. I had a feeling mom would say yes. I mean, no one wanted Randy to have another heart attack, and keeping him locked up was kind of hell for him. For all we knew, it was building inside of him as we spoke, and we were getting lucky everyday. As I thought that, I started wondering why I didn't use that in my argument.

"I mean, he hates being inside all the time," I continued. "He even tells me he'd be glad when it's over. But I'm worried he won't survive till it's over. If it builds and festers inside of him…"

I could tell I hit jackpot. I accidentally used the very language mom would understand. Psychology. I never knew what it meant, and still don't know what it means, but I know how mom talks. She nodded in understanding again.

"I thought maybe I could take him to a baseball game or something," I proposed. I thought my proposal was a little too quick. I waited, and waited, wondering what she'd say. How she'd respond…

"Honey, I understand your point, but…"

But what? Still keep him locked up? That was stupid. We might as well trigger a negative emotion now. For all the good it'd do. Why keep him locked up? What the h"-

"He hates baseball," she said almost laughingly, stopping me in mid-thought. "Tim thought a basketball game, but I know he likes basketball, and watching a tense sports game may get him too hyped up."

"Then baseball is better," I said, almost pleadingly. "At least he's out of the house. We can't keep him in, can we?"

Mom shook her head, "No, we can't."

What a surprise Randy got when we got back. I handed him Amazing World of Spiders. It was a simple paperback book. It really pleased him. I caught Brad rolling his eyes, but I didn't care. The look on Randy's face. Priceless. I'd never forget it. I was so happy.

And then, I broke the good news to him, "Also, I know you hate this sport, but I wanted to take you to a baseball game if that's… ok." I never thought how Randy would like it. I couldn't make him do something he didn't want. I had to try though.

I knew the look on his face. It was uncertain. I went further, "If we watched a basketball game or something, you'd get too tense. I thought a simple baseball game would be better."

Randy nodded, "Well, I see your point. You read my mind. I want to get out. But a- hmm- you know, if it's with you, sure."

That settled it. I was so happy. He was so happy. Before I knew it, he threw me a big hug. I never felt him hug me before. It was a good feeling. Made me feel we really were close, and bonding…

_A/N: Based on the clues I gave you, there are many different ways this story can end tragically. Mark could die, and in a chain reaction, kill Randy too, (but that'll suck.) Mark could fail, and Randy would die, (and that'd suck more.) Or, throughout the story, Mark and Randy become part of each other, and in so doing, Randy gets through, becomes healthy again, and when it comes time for separation, one breaks apart. Or both. _


	9. Contemplating Death

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 9: Contemplating Death**

You know, I really wish we got close this way before. The only times he ever hugged me was when mom or dad told him to, or when I was just a baby. This time was different. It felt like he really meant it. I'll never forget it. Ever…

I wanted to give him something more as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt like dragging mom out of the house again so I could pick up a computer game for him, or something. But I held it in. After all, wasn't it enough that I gave him a book, and a baseball game? He actually got to get out of the house.

We sat down on his bed beside each other. I was quiet. I really didn't know what to say. But he seemed full of words, and he looked as if he found it difficult to convey them to me. I coughed. That one cough seemed to wake him up. He looked over at me, and opened his mouth to speak. I interrupted, "It's fine. I don't regret it."

"No, I mean, well- yeah," he said tentatively. "I mean… thanks. Really. Thank you, Mark. You didn't have to."

"I just wanted to give you some time out of the house, and I know how much you hate baseball, so"-

Randy laughed. At that moment, as he laughed, he clutched his sides with one hand, and with the other, he kept his hand on his beating heart. I looked over. He fell silent. Randy took deep breaths. It made me worried. Would he even live to see the game? Or was he gonna die at that moment, on that spot, on his own bed? I felt like I wanted to have a heart attack myself. What could I do?

Randy coughed a bit, and heaved a great sigh. He looked over at me, a little weakly. He nodded once, and said, "I'm fine. Just a bit- down. Too much excitement, I guess."

"I can't even give you a gift?"

"I don't think it'd kill me," Randy said, laying back against his pillow. "Just sets me going a bit. Nothing too bad. The doctors said no negativity, remember?"

I nodded once to show I remembered, and said, "So, I didn't just kill you?"

Randy laughed, "No, you didn't. I'm fine, Mark."

"I hope so," I said quietly. I couldn't stand another health scare too soon. I wanted to wait fifty or sixty years, when things like this are _supposed _to happen.

I guess Randy caught the shocked look on my face, because he pulled himself up, and sat beside me again. He wasted no time. He asked me, "Mark, why are you helping me?"

Why was he asking that? It was dangerous waters. Was he trying to get himself killed? Couldn't he ask me later, like when he was better? And I voiced that question.

"I'm not concerned for myself right now, I just"-

"I'm concerned," I interrupted. "I don't wanna talk about it right now."

"I'm not gonna die, I'm the one asking, and prepared for any answer," Randy vowed. "You can even say you hate me, and I'll be fine."

"I'm helping because I love you," I blurted out, half expecting him to fall with another heart attack. He didn't. He just stared at me.

"When did you love me?"

"Always," I answered. "And I know you loved me back. You just gave in to peer pressure from Brad."

Randy smiled a tiny bit. Yeah. I knew I was right. I smiled back at him. He nodded, "If I died, how'd you feel?"

"I'd probably kill myself," I answered quietly. "I- can't watch it. Not when I'm trying so hard to help you. I don't wanna fail. I'd rather fail on a hundred tests than fail with you right now. You _have _to live. You just _can't _die. You can't. And you- you wouldn't, would you? You wouldn't die, if you had the choice, would you?"

He shook his head immediately, "No, of course not. I don't wanna die, Mark." I could tell though. My answer, 'I'd probably kill myself' was not what he wanted to hear. I think he expected me to be ok about it. But how would I? At least it proved one thing to him. I was his brother, little or not, and I'd help him no matter what. Even if it cost me my own life.

_A/N: I wonder how many people would risk their lives for their bigger brother. Quite a bit. Or maybe we're all teenagers, and we hate our siblings with a passion. _


	10. The Baseball Game

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 10: The Baseball Game**

It was what I would call a normal day. Or at least, more normal than we've had lately. After the talk with Randy, and him being so pessimistic and thinking he'd die, we fell asleep on the bed. How I hoped no one would burst in the room by surprise. If Randy was scared or shocked, it could be the end of him.

But luckily, no one did. We slept on. A week passed, and we were still quiet. Nothing eventful happened. When we were two weeks into the critical period, dad had finally gotten hold of two baseball Tigers tickets for us. Finally too. I was beginning to think he'd never get them. A part of me even suspected dad was a little jealous that we were going to a sporting event, and one of us hated that particular sport, and he wished to take his place.

Anyway, mom told me over dinner that dad had gotten hold of a Tigers vs. Yankees game. A ticket for two seats. I wondered how it was going to work out. Mom said she was planning extra safety measures to Randy wouldn't get too hyped up. She took me aside after dinner to talk seriously.

"Honey," she said. "Since Randy is half way through his critical period, we should be careful." Where was this going? Was Randy coming with me or not? Or did dad win out, and he convinced mom to not let Randy go. He'd be fine. I was sure of it.

"If he shows any signs of getting too nervous, take him out right away," she said to me. Well, ok. At least we were going. I nodded once to show I understood, but she went on. "Tell him we're doing that, so he won't feel too constrained. But tell him in the right way, so that he'll accept it."

"How would I tell him?" I asked.

"Just tell him that for his safety, if he shows any nervousness, you're leaving. I'm letting you borrow dad's cell. Call him if anything happens."

"Alright, mom," I nodded again, and walked away. Now, I was the one who was nervous. Telling Randy something that might endanger his life…

"Randy," I started as I walked into the room. He looked up at me. "For- safety… if you get too nervous, we'll go, so nothing too bad will happen. Just so you'll be ok, and…" my voice trailed away.

I kept my eyes on Randy, expecting a curt nod or a 'whatever.' But instead, he smiled a little, and laughed a bit. "Mark, I promise you now, I won't get nervous. Baseball will never get _me_ nervous."

"We're just looking out," I shrugged, and sat beside him again. He was pulling on his night socks. We fell asleep on our separate beds, ready to wake up tomorrow for a good day ahead…

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

It was nine when he woke up. Just a few hours to get ready. I was so looking forward to this day. Randy told me over breakfast he didn't know any of their names. I was telling him I didn't either, and that I only watched for the thrill of it when dad came down, and I stopped. I didn't want him feeling too bad about not going.

Sometime in the middle of the day, we walked out to the car. Mom was gonna drive us for dad's safety and for Randy's safety, and, in a way, my safety. We arrived at the stadium, which was half full. I saw a lot of people there. Very few of them were actually kids. Me and Randy took a seat in the middle row.

"C'mon Randy, it's the American pastime," I said happily as Randy groaned in boredom.

"The only good side of baseball is that it's saving my life," Randy muttered so only I could hear him.

We sat quietly, watching as the game progressed. The Tigers picked up a couple runs, but the Yankees were wiping the floor with them. I never expected the Tigers to win.

I clapped as the Tigers hit big ball, and Randy clapped too out of politeness. I stopped clapping as a Yankee shortstop caught the ball, and kicked the Tiger batter off the field. That sucked.

Randy actually laughed as a Yankee player tripped over his own feet on the way to a ball, earning him a lot of yells and laughter from his own teammates and the audience. "See that? What kind of professional trips over his own feet?"

"Maybe he's new," I guessed, and I think that guess wad right, judging by the way dad talked at home later that day.

Randy shrugged, and returned to his bored state for the rest of the game. I loved it. The Tigers lost big time, and the Yankees left Michigan with high hopes. That really sucked, and I knew how bad dad would take it.

That was nice too. The baseball game was so uneventful, and Randy managed to safely spend a time out of the house. This had to signal improvement. It just had to, and I was so happy as mom's car rolled in the driveway to pick us up. I talked the whole way home, Randy putting in a few remarks here and there.

Mom told us dad was not in a good mood, because he missed the game. He watched it on ESPN, but only knowing his two sons were there. Sp, Brad wasn't too happy either. That got us all laughing.

Yeah, definitely, without a doubt, Randy had improved. He lived the whole day through, and I helped him. I felt so proud of myself that it seemed Randy would be ok. That he'd live, live a normal life after the heart attack. We went to bed that night with high hopes and high expectations. Wait till mom called the doctors tomorrow and checked his improvement. They'd be pleased as well.

_A/N: I picked baseball because it's my favorite sport. _


	11. Up All Night

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 11: Up All Night**

We arrived back home in the evening, and we quickly fell asleep. But not before we caught sight of dad and Brad. Brad looked a little sulky, and only nodded his head in acknowledgement that we arrived. Time greeted them, but with an air of coolness in his voice. Me and Randy grinned at each other as we walked upstairs. I couldn't help laughing when we got into our beds. Randy only grinned.

We woke up the next day pretty early. Not as early as usual, but the day was still a child. It was only nine. Randy scratched his hair as he sat against his pillow. He looked over at my bed when I got up too.

"Morning, Mark," he said tiredly.

"Get any sleep?" I asked, noticing his more-than-usual tiredness.

He then looked me at as if it was my fault. "You were tossing and turning all night, practically thrashing the air like it did your puppy in or something. No one can sleep through that. I only made five hours."

"Well, the doctors are gonna check you up today," I said, trying to change the subject. And so they did. At noon, we were at the hospital, and at one, Doctor Kauffman told us the results.

"Well, he's stable," the doctor said, but with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. It made me worried. And so, I could see, mom. "I don't approve of the risk taken, boring sport or not. It was a risk, and I advise you don't take him out anymore, until two months after the critical period."

We nodded in understanding, and the doctor continued. "Now, I am sorry to say that because of this risk taken, the critical period _may _be extended to another week. We are not sure, but to be safe, he should be watched a week longer. Two weeks longer if it's possible. Take him in after the original critical period passes, and we'll check him further. Until then, good luck."

I walked outside, with mom and dad. Randy looked kind of bothered, so I quickly put an arm around him. I think the doctor could've said this to us when Randy was _not _present. Why'd she have to tell us openly like that? Or she could've just told me. I was his brother. I was the one looking after him, and tiring myself out with exhaustion.

We arrived home in low spirits at around four. The lateness was due to the fact we had stopped for lunch at McDonalds. Brad was out with his friends, so Randy and I just sat down on the bed, contemplating the time Brad would come in an even sulkier mood now that we have gone out to lunch without him.

Brad came at eight, and smelling the French fries in the air, burst out yelling. Jill put her finger on her lips, scared that Randy, was present, would get unstable again. Brad stopped in med-sentence, and with what looked like great effort, sucked it up. Thank God. If he had yelled any further, I don't think Randy would've survived.

Looking over at Randy, I noticed he was a little shaky. I took his hand, and dragged him upstairs. I sat him on his bed, and sat beside him, arm around him. "Forget about it, ok?"

Randy nodded, taking deep breaths. He was still shaky. It looked like a very, very minor seizure. More like a shiver. After what seemed like five minutes, he stopped. I kept my eyes on him. I wanted so bad to cry out, but I didn't want to stir up anything at all.

"Wanna go to bed?" I asked him.

Randy shook his head, and said, "I'm not tired," pretty weakly.

"Well then… what?"

"Let's watch a movie?" Randy suggested.

"Like…"

"In the mood for the Lion King?"

I laughed. What kind of choice was that? "A movie where a young cub's dad dies… you wanna watch a movie of death?"

Randy grinned, "Yeah. I'm in the mood. Besides, its cartoon."

So we stayed up until mom and dad and a sulky Brad went to bed. Then, we snuck downstairs. I went to the kitchen to fix us snacks, and stole some Reeses from the cabinet. I stole cookies, milk, and made some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I joined Randy ten minutes later to start the movie, and watch the Lion King. Comments were put in every now and then by me mainly. I said "You know, you kind of look like Jonathan Taylor Thomas?"

Randy blushed at that, and shook his head, "But I can't act for sh*t." We both laughed. When Mufassa died, I asked angrily, "Well, why didn't Zazoo help Simba. Why his father?"

Randy laughed, and said as if it was obvious, "How do you expect Zazoo to pick up a cub Simba's size?"

After the movie, Randy insisted on putting the Hunchback of Notre Dame in, saying it may be the last movie he watches, and wants to relive his childhood. So, we watched that too.

"Why is Frollo praying to the fire?" I asked.

Randy shrugged, and said, "In the original version he's more anti-religious. Actually Quasi is supposed to be blind and deaf," he informed me. I still am amazed at that. Was he really? That was interesting. I never knew.

We stayed up all night, kind of. We fell asleep, arms around each other, during the credits of the Hunchback. That was the best night of my life. I swear. I will, never in my life, forget it. I love Randy for that night.

_A/N: A Disney night. Wow, I envy them. _


	12. So Close

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 12: So Close**

The next week passed by uneventfully. Brad thankfully got over is sulkiness by the next morning. It's a relief as well. I was just contemplating confronting Brad privately if he kept on being sulky. I even thought about asking dad to pick up McDonalds for him after Tool Time, just to make him happy, and get him out of the way. Maybe the latter was safer, but at least he kept in control the next day.

Randy was in a lot of trouble. For now he told me how he felt when Brad exploded:

_I felt like… I was gonna die. It was really serious. I knew it. I felt my heart. I was more aware of my heart than I ever was in my life. It was hurting. Like a heart burn. I couldn't control it… but I had to. I didn't want to die. I still don't want to die, Mark. I do want to live. At least to adulthood. Dying when I'm still kid is… to cruel. _

_I fought to control the pain. I exerted every effort I had to hold back the heart attack I knew was gonna come. I knew was inevitable. When you decided to help me, I felt happiness. I thought, with someone as young and, I' sorry, as simple as you, it would be fun. It would br easy. I felt I would definitrly live. Now, I am wondering. _

_I appreciate what you're doing for me, but… will I live? Will I be ok? Will the critical period pass? Will I even live to see the next school year? I personally doubt it. I think… Mark, I think I'm gonna die. _

I couldn't believe it when he told me that. I fought back against the tears that would come as I looked into his eyes. The eyes that would inevitably close. The eyes that would lose their light. The eyes that would lose their life, and die with their host.

I knew it too. As he told me that, I knew it too, and I realized that we weren't only fighting death. Randy and I were together fighting fate and destiny. To a huger extent, we were doing battle with the Almighty. And if I thought of it that way, Randy was definitely, no doubt about it, going to die.

But, if I thought about it in the way that God was on our side, and it was because of him and his mercy that he didn't suffer a heart attack, Randy was probably going to survive. All we could do was hold our hope together. I hoped to God he'd survive.

The major test came forth a week after the near heart attack incident. I was walking outside with Wilson, picking up apple seeds and oranges for his garden. When we got back, Wilson went inside, and I stuck around outside. Just for a bit. I wanted to catch some fresh air before going back in to care for Randy as usual.

I couldn't wait till it was over. Till I'd be free, and both of us would be able to go out again. I was daydreaming of the day, and didn't realize that I had walked straight into the yard of the McGurns. I yell from inside the house woke me up, and I looked around. Vinnie and Paul were walking towards me. I backed away, and ran back, around the house, to the other side of the fence.

I leaned against the wall to catch my breath, and was about to go inside to take a drink when they came into our yard themselves. It must've been to get me back for trespassing on their yard. They took hold of me without warning, and threw me to the ground. I yelped as they threw me down, and I tried getting up, only to receive a kick to the stomach.

I stayed on the ground. Giving in. If I was too loud, it would attract Randy' attention, and then…

Too late…

The door opened. I looked up gratefully, thinking it was mom or dad. It was Randy. Good God. I'd have been grateful for Brad, really. Why Randy? "Leave him alone guys."

"Tell him not to go into our yard again!" Vinnie said angrily as him and his brother looked at him threateningly, and disappeared over the fence. I expected Randy to help me up, but a minute passed, and nothing happened.

I got up, and swayed slightly. When my vision came back to focus, I realized why I was never helped up. Randy was against the wall, eyes half closed. I looked worriedly. I was at a loss. What to do?

Randy gasped, and exhaled greatly. I walked over uncertainly. "Uh, Randy?"

In response, Randy fell, face-down, to the floor. I yelled. Well, that was enough. Wilson, and mom and dad. One look on the ground, one look at my face, and they could put two and two together. Anyone could. I noticed, later, that my face was bruised, and that was what put Randy in such a state. Oh God, I could not… I still can't… believe that had to happen. I just wanted one minute outside and…

_A/N: Damn you McGurns. Wow, I'm really getting involved aren't I? Enjoy. _


	13. A Last Thought

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 13: A Last Thought**

_A/N: Warning. This chapter gets religion involved. Not my beliefs, but Randy's beliefs, so this may not agree with many of us. Just know no offense is intended. Enjoy the chapter. For those of you who wish to skip, I'll leave a warning in bold when the part comes up. It's a short part, and it's underlined for easy discrimination. _

_Wow, I never thought it'd come- down to this. Mark is standing over me. I can't see, but I know he is. I can sense him. He's standing over me. I can't hear him, but I know what's saying. He's begging me to get better, and to wake up. I wonder if I will. But at the same time, I can't help wondering… is my life over? Did I reach the end? Does my story end here? _

_That's sad. Mark tried so hard protecting me. He gave his summer. He gave his time. He gave his effort. I didn't ask for it. The last thing I did to him the last time I was here was hide his watch, and torture him at home about it. At least I had a chance to say sorry. At least this time, I helped him, and if I die, that's the image I'll go with. I helped my little brother out when he needed it. _

_I was at peace, but was Mark? Was he at peace? After working so hard on me, and trying to make me happy, would he ever accept the face he failed? If I die, will he be ok? Or will he die too? Will I soon be joined in the afterlife by my brother? Or is there even an afterlife? _

_**(WARNING) **__Lately, I started questioning to myself ethics. I didn't tell mom and dad… yet. But I keep asking myself; how do we know? Science proves the theory of Evolution, but religion goes against it. So is religion wrong… well… say we took Adam's legend into assumption it's true, wherever monkeys came from, they too could have evolved to something like man, until we became similar. _

_I dunno. Science proves some of these stories true, so religion can't be all wrong. My science teacher was telling me last year. That battle of Jericho, and how the sun stopped. Supposedly, someone did scientific calculations, and proved time stopped for one hour once before. Science even supports an idea of a Great flood, and remnants of the ark was supposedly found somewhere in Turkey. _

_But fundamentalism… extremism… I guess what I really have a problem with is organized religion. I certainly believe in a higher power, call it whatever or whoever you like, especially after hearing the sun had stopped, which is scientifically impossible. And here we have science proving the scientifically impossible._

_I wish I asked my science teacher about that Jericho battle again, and asked about the ark. If I die, I find myself pleading, maybe I'll do research! That's a project for Mark and I to do. Research on that subject. I know it's the summer, but it's interesting! What can I say?__**(WARNING)**_

_If I die now, will I end up in the afterlife? Will I see the faces of my dead relatives smiling at me? Will I see endless plains of paradise? Or is this a myth? Am I dead? Forever? Am I nonexistent? Or… will I be reincarnated? So many theories, and now I… _

_Oh… feeling came back to me. I feel… shaky. I feel like I'm shaking violently. I sense the doctors working on me. I hope they succeed. I need more time to decide if I fear death or not. _

_Oh… I still have feeling. That means I'm not dead… yet. But, now I have a great pain. It's paining me in my chest. My heart is hurting. It's killing me. I can't understand why… I want to live. I have the willpower to live. Why…_

_Even an hour later however, I still got feeling…_

_*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*_

_That's funny. One minute my eyes were tightly closed. Glued shut. But… Oh I am convinced there's a God now. I can see. Mark is standing there, crying tears of joy. I open my mouth to cry out to him, and get mom and dad's attention, but the doctors are still working on me. Do they even realize I'm awake, or are they blind? They started working on me, but I can't feel anything with all the happiness I'm too busy feeling. I am so happy. I'm euphoric! Remind me to kiss everyone when I return home!_

_Wait, if I'm ok, then… _

_That means Mark's fine too. I'll be ok, and the summer would be the best of our lives, and I'd return to school, and Mark and I would be best buds, and we'd grow up together. I'm sure now; I will make a full recovery. Surely._


	14. A Look Back

**The Worse Summer**

**Chapter 14: A Look Back**

That was scary. I still can't believe it. I still find it hard to believe. I sit here now, remembering all the good times I had with him, hoping he'll get better. That's all I can do, especially after what happened… hope…

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When I first made the vow… And I thought he'd refuse, heh, heh, heh.

_Randy kept his eyes on me. I wondered why. He must've already told Randy the conditions, judging on how Randy nodded in an understanding, but he still didn't take his eyes off of me. "Alright."_

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When Randy accepted… Hah, and he made the controlling joke.

_I was happy to see that Randy smiled, "Alright! I got myself a slave. And it's my little brother. Really, you don't have to get me a birthday present next year. This is enough. Me controlling you for a month?"_

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When I gave Randy the book… I'm happy the baseball proposition went better than I thought.

_What a surprise Randy got when we got back. I handed him Amazing World of Spiders. It was a simple paperback book. It really pleased him. I caught Brad rolling his eyes, but I didn't care. The look on Randy's face. Priceless. I'd never forget it. I was so happy. _

_And then, I broke the good news to him, "Also, I know you hate this sport, but I wanted to take you to a baseball game if that's… ok."_

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When we sat, talking about the… the dire possibility… God that night till haunts me.

"_I'd probably kill myself," I answered quietly. "I- can't watch it. Not when I'm trying so hard to help you. I don't wanna fail. I'd rather fail on a hundred tests than fail with you right now. You have to live. You just can't die. You can't. And you- you wouldn't, would you? You wouldn't die, if you had the choice, would you?"_

_He shook his head immediately, "No, of course not. I don't wanna die, Mark." I could tell though. My answer, 'I'd probably kill myself' was not what he wanted to hear. I think he expected me to be ok about it. But how would I? At least it proved one thing to him. I was his brother, little or not, and I'd help him no matter what. Even if it cost me my own life."_

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

When we watched the baseball game… Smilingly, I know Randy enjoyed it.

_Randy actually laughed as a Yankee player tripped over his own feet on the way to a ball, earning him a lot of yells and laughter from his own teammates and the audience. "See that? What kind of professional trips over his own feet?"_

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

And when we stayed up all night. Ah, ha, ha, ha, you know, he really did look like Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

_We stayed up all night, kind of. We fell asleep, arms around each other, during the credits of the Hunchback. That was the best night of my life. I swear. I will, never in my life, forget it. I love Randy for that night. _

*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~*

Now, there I was, wondering if he'd live. That was a pretty bad seizure. I wondered if he felt anything, already being unconscious. And the doctors said it was a major heart attack he went through afterwards. Did he feel anything? Did the doctors save him? If his fate was still uncertain, was he in great pain? Or… was it painless… of course assuming that he… that he…

I sat there, wondering, for many hours.

_A/N: I'm sorry if it was annoying with all these scene changes and flashbacks. Adds to dramatic emphasis. Life passes through. All the good times. _


	15. I'll Never Forget

**The Worst Summer**

**Chapter 15: I'll Never Forget**

_A/N: Hi again. This chapter will have a touch of spirituality involved. It's Wilson's line, and I underlined it in case those want to skip it. Though it is significant, it can be skipped by the easily offended. _

I have no idea how I ever got through that. It was… such a trauma. How could anyone as young as me- survive that… ordeal. The only good side was that it was over. It was a sense of liberation that took over my mind. I was no longer bound. I no longer had to look after him.

But the release from the binding contract I made with Randy and the doctor came at a price. A harsh one. The price was torture. Lifelong torture I am convinced I will never forget. I will never believe fully what happened. I will never get over it. He… he…

Everyone gathered around the back yard of our house. The fence was taken down to make room. I never thought that fence would be taken down. I thought we'd stay hidden behind the fence… and Wilson would be hidden… forever.

I stood beside Brad at the front of the large group that composed of mom, dad behind us, uncle Jeff, uncle Marty, and even uncle Steve, Al, Heidi, dad's boss Bud, Harry, Dolores, Benny, and so many others I never met before.

For once Brad wasn't ogling at Heidi brainlessly. He just kept his eyes down. He didn't look up. He just looked down, looking almost thoughtful. I wondered why.

There it was. A man in a black robe carried the small tomb. The tomb held the body in it. That was it then. I admit I went through what you psychologists call denial, before now. But the tomb was there, and I was even allowed to see the body, and kiss its forehead, before it was closed. But even then, I held the tears back.

Strong men didn't cry. That was the belief dad always held. I could not cry. I just couldn't. The priest started talking in a monotonous voice. I didn't catch too much of what he said.

"youth"-

"spirit"-

"smart"-

All those described him well. Young, had spirit, he was smart… but not smart enough, not young enough or spiritual enough to survive, even through all my efforts. All the time I put in. All the time I gave up for him, to make him happy. He ultimately died. It was inevitable. I- I lost the battle. I remember wondering if I was fighting death or God. Now I knew. I knew who I was fighting. Whether it was God, destiny, fate, or all of the above, it was inevitable that I lose. It was inevitable that I am ultimately forced to grow up too fast.

But one had the power to choose his destiny. Randy chose to help me with the McGurns, who I now despise more than ever. I chose to stand outside, and wait there, instead of going inside like I should've. And nothing would've happened. Randy wouldn't be dead.

However, I would never forgive those two. I knew they were really sorry for what they did, and they were even imprisoned in juvenile for life, but I can't find it in myself to forgive them. Ever…

Clouds started rolling in. It looked like it was gonna rain, but the clouds were white, not grey. I didn't think they carried rain. The music started playing. It was slow and quiet. It made me think of a dark place. Dark but happy. It could symbolize that the dead was happier. But… was the living happier? Or was the living forgotten, or not considered when one died.

Then, mom started crying into Marty's shoulder. That was when it happened…

I burst into tears. Hard tears. I could no longer control them. Somehow, I lost control. I collapsed onto the ground. Dad, I think he was tearless, but quiet. I knew how he felt. He wouldn't dare open his mouth, or he too would start crying. Anyway, dad bent down, and put his hand around my back. But what about Brad. Didn't he love Randy? Maybe he thought it was my fault, because I failed. He probably thought he could've done better.

(**WARNING)**As I cried, sobbed, and leaked out an endless river of tears, Brad finally spoke. "Dad, why does death exist? Why'd Randy die so young?"

I sniffed, and tried to stop myself crying to hear dad's response. Then I remembered he was trying not to talk, and I lost control again. My face was hidden in his chest. 

It was not dad who answered. Wilson answered. I didn't notice Wilson was there. He sounded next to dad. "It's a philosophical reason, Brad. It depends on your beliefs. Religion is involved too."

"I'm open," he mumbled. 

That was when Wilson made what sounded like a moving speech. I'd never forget it. Not till the day I myself die, and join Randy. "God made man for a few primary reasons. Perseverance, self-control, and respect. Respect towards your fellow man, and respect towards God himself. Life is like a big test. Testing you to see not only how many times your worship him a day, or what church you go to, or if you even go to church, or if you go to another place of worship… it's a test to see how you treat others around you, and how you handle situations when you are treated badly. All are meant to die, and all are meant to pass away into another life, whether it's eternal darkness, or an afterlife. Once you die, you are judged. Judged on whether or not you passed or failed the test. You could see it as a school test. A test in which you can only use a more permanent pen. Only the choices you make can only _sometimes _be undone. The choices you make will lead to your ultimate fate."

"D-did R-Randy p-p-pass the test?" I asked, stuttering violently. I was still crying, but at least not as hard as before. I could actually speak now. 

"Randy was young," Wilson said. "He'd never be considered to have failed the test. He treated you right. You had your ups and downs, but you never went too far. You always loved and cared for each other. There's no doubt about that. He loved you, and you still love him. His questions only proved he was smarter than to blindly accept something." **(WARNING)**

I knew Randy was happier where he was. Wherever he was. I was still crying. Very hard. But I knew. I knew he was ok. But I'd never be ok. I lost my life. And I- I give up. I can't find it in myself to try helping another guy again.

That's why I am miserable. All that time was a waste of my life. Like I was being made fun of. Why did it happen to Randy? Why him? Why always him? Was there any reason or sense to what happened? It's like, it's not meant to be. I wasn't meant to befriend him for long.

I can keep one thing in mind though. Just one thing. I made the last days of his life happiest, and had I refused to look after him, he would've died miserable. At least he was happy, even in death.

But then, I was happiest too. When Randy died, he left me with a hole in my stomach. A hole with no Randy in it. A part of me is missing now, and I can only wait till this part of me becomes whole again, IF it can. When Randy died, I was left to wallow in my own misery. Brad stopped talking to me, and I have a feeling it'll stay like that.

But, the times we spent together, just me and him, were the happiest of my life. So weird, and ironic. Who'd have thought I'd enjoy a full month of keeping a constant watch on him. Even now, though I regret for agreeing to look after him, it was those times that remind me, now, that it wasn't such a waste.

So, I return to school now with one question in mind. Will I ever get over it? Will I ever let go, and allow myself to live, or will I remain in misery for the rest of my life? It's over. For all I know, I may never get over it, unless I am given another chance to redeem myself after what happened, I'll never get over it. Ever.

_A/N: I am very, very sorry. Believe me, I am. You have no idea how difficult it was for me to write this chapter. That said, I even found it difficult to post it, and make it official. When I reread the last two chapters, I considered going back and making him live, but… I don't do that. I meant to write this story in replacement for what I could've done in the Kidnap. Most people say sorry, but no regrets. So, here goes: I'm very sorry, and there's regrets. Loads of them. You have no clue how many regrets there are. A part of me wishes I didn't, but what's done is done. I hope you enjoyed the story, if not the ending._

_Now, I must give thanks. I must, or I'd probably wake up with a headache in the morning. Firstly, I thank Randy Taylor for sticking with this story, and reading them and showing interest. Can't write without you. Next, I thank Syracusethedog for giving me not only ideas for the Kidnap and this story, but for others as well. You are honestly good writers, and I thank you both. _


End file.
